little olive
swallowed a long piece of floss,
please olive, let it come out in your poop
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
paperclips
from as far back as i can remember it was either me yelling at my mom, my mom yelling at my dad, my dad yelling at my mom, my mom yelling at me or my dad yelling at me. they remember everything differently, which Im sure can make them feel better about themselves.
there was so much hatred and anger permeating the walls of my home, the smell was thick with resentment , regret and most importantly failure.
i can remember the first time i yelled, it felt amazing like becoming a brand new person. i started to realize my parents were acting like kids, but i was the kid, and that wasnt fair, so i started to yell. Yelling felt like knocking things down, like burning their wedding pictures (that came later)
i wanted them to remember that i was still there. and i hated it, i hated life around me. i hated the boys that pushed me up against the wall and stole my money, i hated my fat body, i hated my stupid fucking teachers, i hated the pretty girls, but more than anything else, i hated my parents.
when i was 12 i put my key through the door and found my father raging at my mother. it was so loud, and my mom was screaming over him. i put myself in the middle of them. my mom picked up my father typewriter and held it out the window " I WILL THROW THIS FUCKING THING OUT MICHAEL. IM SO SICK OF THIS, DONT YOU DARE TREAT ME THIS WAY"
in reponse my father pushed over our living room table and every thing smashed and crashed on the floor. my whole body was shaking, and i picked up all the paperclips and put them back in the jar.
there was so much hatred and anger permeating the walls of my home, the smell was thick with resentment , regret and most importantly failure.
i can remember the first time i yelled, it felt amazing like becoming a brand new person. i started to realize my parents were acting like kids, but i was the kid, and that wasnt fair, so i started to yell. Yelling felt like knocking things down, like burning their wedding pictures (that came later)
i wanted them to remember that i was still there. and i hated it, i hated life around me. i hated the boys that pushed me up against the wall and stole my money, i hated my fat body, i hated my stupid fucking teachers, i hated the pretty girls, but more than anything else, i hated my parents.
when i was 12 i put my key through the door and found my father raging at my mother. it was so loud, and my mom was screaming over him. i put myself in the middle of them. my mom picked up my father typewriter and held it out the window " I WILL THROW THIS FUCKING THING OUT MICHAEL. IM SO SICK OF THIS, DONT YOU DARE TREAT ME THIS WAY"
in reponse my father pushed over our living room table and every thing smashed and crashed on the floor. my whole body was shaking, and i picked up all the paperclips and put them back in the jar.
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